


The Grassy Bits in Between

by Lalalli



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Inept love confessions, Long Distance Friendship, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 17:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalli/pseuds/Lalalli
Summary: Jemma thinks Fitz should move in with her when he moves to her city, which means he should probably let her know how he feels before it gets too awkward.It gets awkward anyways.*Written for Fitzsimmons Appreciation Week 2017Prompt: song





	The Grassy Bits in Between

**Author's Note:**

> Title and plot and some dialogue from "Birds" by Kate Nash. You should listen to it.

Jemma smooths out her skirt as she waits for Fitz’s train to arrive. Even though they haven’t stopped talking, still Skype once a week and text each other multiple times a day, it’s still been six months since she’s seen Fitz face to face. Six months since she’s gotten a hug from him. Six months since she’s cuddled on the couch with him while watching This Is Shark.

She sees him first, his face scanning the crowd. She stands on her tiptoes and waves wildly. “Fitz!”

He turns towards her voice, and she knows the moment he sees her because his face lights up and he starts running.

Jemma’s heart beats faster, a thrill running through her at the knowledge that he missed her as much as she missed him. She opens her arm, readying herself for what she’s sure will be an enthusiastic hug.

Instead Fitz grabs her hand and just _keeps running_. “Fitz!” Jemma yelps.

He looks over his shoulder with an apologetic smile. “You have no idea how much I missed you. But, uh, there was a bit of a misunderstanding at the train station and -”

There’s a shout behind them and Fitz tugs harder on Jemma’s arm. “Come on!”

*

They don’t get the opportunity for a proper greeting until they’ve made it onto the bus and squeezed their way past the other passengers to the back. Fitz wraps his arms around Jemma and buries his face in her hair, familiarizing himself once more with the scent of her almond shampoo. He forces himself to pull back, but then can’t help himself from tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Jemma beams up at him, her face still flushed from their escape.

“You look -” Fitz stops himself. “Not that you don’t -” He huffs, frustrated. Jemma just looks at him expectantly, and he smiles down at her, his expression self-deprecating. “I’m trying to figure out a way to tell you that you look nice without making it sound like I don’t think you always look nice.”

Jemma laughs, then ducks her head, embarrassed. “Thanks. If it helps, I was trying to look nicer than usual today.”

Fitz’s mouth goes dry. “Yeah?”

Jemma lifts her shoulders in an almost imperceptible shrug. “Well, my best friend was coming to visit. It’s a special occasion.” She nudges his shoulder with hers. “Speaking of special occasions…” She nods towards the rolled garment bag attached to his backpack. “What’s the suit for?”

Fitz flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that...I have a job interview tomorrow.”

Jemma gapes at him. “Here?”

Fitz quirks his lips. “Well, not _right here_ , on this exact bus, but -”

“You’re going to move here?” Jemma interrupts, reaching out to grab his arm.

“I mean, it’s not 100% certain yet, but yeah. That’s the plan.”

Jemma’s face lights up, delighted. “Oh my God!” She throws her arms around Fitz’s neck. “Fitz! That’s amazing!”

Fitz laughs, bringing his arms up to return the hug. “I take it you don’t mind?”

Jemma pulls away, but then hooks her arm around his and leans her head against his shoulder. “I’m cool with it,” she says with pretend nonchalance.

Fitz turns his head to hide his grin in her hair. “Cool.”

*

Jemma comes running from the bathroom as soon as Fitz returns to her flat from the interview. “How’d it go?”

Fitz takes his time emptying out his pockets and shrugging out of his suit jacket. “Well,” he starts, dragging it out.

“When do you find out?” Jemma demands, impatient.

Fitz fiddles with his wristwatch. “Five minutes ago. They called me while I was on the bus.”

He tries to sound dejected, but Jemma’s always been able to read him, even when he’s trying to hide his feelings. She claps excitedly, bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet. “You got the job!” She flings herself at him.

Fitz laughs, returning her hug. “Yeah. I guess I better start looking around for a flat.”

Jemma pulls away and grabs his hand. “Great,” she says, brisk. “Let me show you around.” She pulls him further into the apartment. “This is the living room, this is the bathroom, this would be your bedroom, which is convenient because a bunch of your stuff is already in there -”

Fitz swallows. “Jemma - you don’t have to-”

Jemma turns to face him, her expression determined. “And have you seen the view from the rooftop yet? You shouldn’t make any decisions until you’ve seen it.” She lets go of his hand to stride to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge. She hands him one and nods towards the fire escape. “After you.”

They climb to the rooftop, and Fitz has to admit that the view is lovely, especially at dusk when the sky’s a hazy orange and the city lights are slowly starting to blink on.

“What do you think?” Jemma asks.

Honestly, Fitz doesn’t know if he can handle living with Jemma again. He knew he loved her before she moved and assumed that the distance would help temper his feelings. Not that he would stop loving her completely - just that if she weren’t around as much, his feelings would soften a bit, become more bearable.

He wasn’t prepared for the distance to make them even closer. Whereas Jemma used to wait until she got home to tell him about her day, now she texts him all the time, any time a thought pops into her head or her co-worker Milton annoys her or she sees a meme that makes her laugh. It’s an intimacy different than the kind they shared when they roomed together at university, when they sat too close to each other on the couch or fell asleep together on Fitz’s bed in the middle of studying or got breakfast together at late-night diners, kicking each other under the table and stealing bacon from each others’ plates.

It was easy to be close, back then. It’s harder with the distance, but it’s more meaningful, somehow, to know that Jemma’s his friend not just because of proximity, but because they’re choosing each other.

Fitz knew back then that Jemma didn’t love him the way he loved her. But now...now he’s not so sure. He thinks she might, and he doesn’t know how to handle that.

“The view is nice,” Fitz tells her, and it’s true, but it still feels so _inadequate_. He doesn’t think he will ever know the right words to tell Jemma what he thinks. It’s why he can’t ever summon up the courage to tell her how he feels about her. Words like ‘love’ and ‘want’ and ‘adore’ - they’re all so small compared to the vastness of his feelings for her.

Fitz walks up to the edge of the building and looks down. His stomach immediately lurches and his heart drops into his stomach. It’s a familiar feeling. He takes a step back and swallows heavily. “You know, the thing about standing at the edge of something is that even though it’s beautiful, the idea of falling is still terrifying.”

Jemma stands next to him, her arms crossed over her chest, her side pressing into his. “That’s oddly poetic.” She leans her head against his shoulder. “You should move in with me.”

Fitz doesn’t know how to explain to her that moving in with her would simultaneously be the best and worst thing to ever happen to him. “That sounds like fucking torture.” They both freeze.

Jemma pulls away from him, her expression turning cold. “A ‘no’ would have sufficed.”

Fitz reaches out to grab Jemma’s arm. “No - wait. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What other way could you have possibly meant it?” Her voice is calm, but still demanding.

“Just -” Fitz huffs, frustrated. A bird lands on the ledge behind Jemma and Fitz says urgently, “You know how birds can shit on your head?”

Jemma’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief. “ _What_?”

“No! I mean -” Fitz drags his hand down his face. “Okay, you know how birds like, make a mess and they dive-bomb you and it’s really scary, but they’re also really beautiful?” The words tumble out of his mouth before he can really think too hard - or at all - about them. “That’s how I feel about you.”

Jemma wrinkles her nose as she attempts to follow his train of thought. “Are you comparing me to _bird shit_?”

“No! I’m comparing my _feelings for you_ to birds!"  He starts gesticulating wildly, desperate to explain.  "Like, my feelings are really messy and scary, and that’s the part that would make it hard to live with you, but they’re also good feelings because I can’t imagine feeling any other way and even if you don’t feel the same way as I do, I wouldn’t want to not love you.”

Jemma studies his face as she processes his incoherent rambling, and then unexpectedly, impossibly, her face brightens and she _laughs_. “Fitz, that has got to be the shittiest love confession in the world. You are truly terrible at this.” Jemma steps forward and wraps her arm around his waist, resting her forehead against his chest.

Fitz slumps against her, relieved. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way, it seems like they’re going to be okay. “Please tell me that pun was unintentional,” he manages, his voice strained.

“Nope. Completely intentional.” Jemma leans up and presses a soft kiss to his lips, short and chaste, before grabbing his hand and pulling away. “Come on. We need to figure out how we’re going to fit all our stuff into our bedroom.”

“ _Our_ bedroom?” Fitz repeats, his head spinning.

Jemma looks over her shoulder. “Yeah. Our bedroom.” She turns to look forward as they go down the metal steps. “I didn’t like living so far away from you. I want you as close as I can get you.” She stops and helps Fitz climb through the window back into her flat. “Is that cool?” Jemma asks, her bravado faltering.

“Yeah.” Fitz leans in to kiss her again. “Cool.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> You guys, there's a reason I'm not more prolific, and it's because even when I have a full day without work, I need more time to check to make sure I'm not writing absolute rubbish.
> 
> All this to say - sorry for the rubbish. It's hard writing seven fics in seven days.


End file.
